Movies, Ice Cream, and Fireflies
by Harmonic Strings
Summary: Love isn't perfect. Love isn't kind. It isn't fascinating or exhilarating-well, it is, but not always. There's small times, when no one is perfect. Hundreds of small moments pushed together into something magnificent, something held just between him and her. Made out of movies, ice cream, fireflies, and something he'd never be able to name. Drabble/Fic-let book.
1. Ice Cream

It was hot. Windows were thrown wide open, hot baked winds rolled through the small house slowly.

"Get me an ice cream." She demanded lazily, body stretched across the couch as she reached an arm out and twisted the dial on the old fan, groaning at the weak machine's feeble breeze. He raised an eyebrow, sitting up from his sprawled position on the armchair to look at her.

"Why don't you get me some ice cream?" He questioned, raising a pale eyebrow as he relaxed once more. "I'm just as hot as you are, you know."

"Don't you love me, Roxas?!"

"...don't you love me? "

"...Please?" Oh, it was that look. He hated when she used that look. She looked all endearing and lovable, like it was absurd he wouldn't get her an ice cream. She was trying a little too hard, though, it was abnormal now. He gave a smirk for a second, before catching himself and sending a frown across the livingroom, allowing his eyebrows to sink.

She faltered.

He continued, allowing his lips to twitch lower. Why should he get her an ice cream? After all, she got to sit on the nice couch right next to the fan, and he was bunched up on the armchair. That wasn't fair, was it? And now, he had to walk around on this exhausted day? No way!

His girlfriend sighed, sluggishly climbing off the couch and stalking off to the kitchen, returning shortly with two lovely blue bars.

****"Thanks." He gave a grin as fingers wrapped around the cold wooden stick. _Point, Roxas._


	2. House with a White Picket Fence

**Hello, lovelies! This is mostly for practice, rather than a serious series. Nothing here's in order, and it's partially AU. I'm just trying to write a realistic relationship and dust off my writing skills! Feel free to drop a review, constructive criticism is always welcome!**

**And, of course...**

**I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or it's repsective characters. Other than the unnamed OC, no person or any intellectual property is under my possesion.**

* * *

"This is your house...?" He looked around the entry room, blinking as he took in the size. "People can fit in such a tiny place?"

She blinked, looking at him."What, you live in a castle or something?"

"Yeah." Her house was near the opposite of what he was expecting. Everything was so close together. There were pictures of people everywhere. The furniture wasn't perfectly geometrical. There were stairs, but he could see their ending, it was _lived in_ and...and she was giving him that funny look again. He wasn't supposed to answer like that, was he? The blond paused for a moment, trying to look like he was joking. "Hahaha?"

"You're weird." She commented before shaking the rain off her umbrella and hanging it on an old rusty hook. He watched her pull off her shoes and leave them on the polished wood paneling before traipsing to the couch and collapsing on it. The colourful furniture-really, who had tan couches? With BLUE PILLOWS?-gave a groan, as though it became aware of holding over a hundred pounds. She observed him, a confused expression forming slowly over her face. "...what, are you gonna just stand over there gaping like a fish?"

Roxas took that as a prompt to copy her actions, up to removing his shoes to plopping on the couch the same way the girl had. She stared again. It was interesting, how many faces Somebodies could make, which meant the same thing. Her eyes weren't narrowed this time. Instead, her eyebrows were raised, mouth open but teeth together. He could tell, though, that it was caused by something in his behaviour, something that was...off, somehow.

"...Hahaha?"

"...you're _really_ weird."


	3. Fireflies

The twenty minutes they had spent trying to catch fireflies in old pasta jars had gone rather uneventfully at first, but Roxas had to admit that it was fun, and the way her face lit up when the blond executed a pathetically weak form of Magic Hour was something to remember.

The fact that fireflies seemed attracted to the tiny glowing orbs happened to be a bonus. Somehow, the jars managed to look like a miniature nebula, stars twinkling and glimmering brightly. Roxas couldn't look away.


End file.
